


Drowning Lessons

by Lost_And_Insane



Series: Spirk One-Shots [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Spock, Fainting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_And_Insane/pseuds/Lost_And_Insane
Summary: After an away mission goes wrong and Spock almost drowns, the Vulcan is not as emotionally controlled as he would’ve liked.





	1. You Must Keep Your Soul Like a Secret In Your Throat

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I have an irrational fear of drowning and because I faint on a daily basis for no reason other than my body hating me.

_This is a terrible idea._

The captain’s words rang through Spock’s head as if his friend were there himself, his voice overshadowing the loud thunder and rain everywhere around the Vulcan. Spock could even recall the look of utter worry Kirk had given him when he’d first proposed the plan. That hadn’t stopped him, though, or else he wouldn’t have been stuck in his current situation.

_This is a suicide mission, Spock. You can’t seriously be considering this!_

Kirk had tried unbelievably hard to stop Spock from making this decision—the logical decision—but everyone aboard the Enterprise had known this was the only way. Although Spock was starting to see that his captain had been right.

Spock forced his eyes to open, which took more strength than the Vulcan was willing to admit, and was immediately faced by the wreckage around him. The unnatural darkness made it hard to see anything, even with his outstanding vision, but the harsh rain beating on his face and the occasional burst of lightning told him all he needed to know—the shuttle had crashed; he was stranded.

The U.S.S. Enterprise had first come to this class M planet to follow Starfleet’s emergency orders. A yet unexplained storm had appeared as though it came from nowhere, and according to imprecise calculations, it would last months, maybe even years. Without help of the Federation, that would mean certain death to the planet’s inhabitants. The storm would flood the entire planet.

The _Enterprise_ had been the closest starship, the other nearest cruiser still being two weeks out.

There was no way the inhabitants could beam aboard the starship—Spock and Kirk had already gone through the list. First and foremost, these aliens were a pre-warp civilization, which meant letting them know of their existence would break the Prime Directive. Secondly, there wouldn’t be enough space aboard the Enterprise for all civilians. It wasn’t built for the resettlement of colonists. Lastly, the huge storm made it extremely risky for anyone to beam up or down.

It had seemed impossible to help the planet’s inhabitants, but then the Vulcan had an idea.

Spock had a way of neutralizing the storm: a scientific experiment he’d worked on together with Dr. Mordreaux, his old Academy professor, as a means to keep busy while the Enterprise was in drydock, conducting repairs. Although the machine wasn’t fully finished yet, Spock would know how to activate it. He had immediately proposed the idea of activating the machine to his captain, who Spock knew trusted him enough to let him do this, but there was a minor complication in the plan.

To get the machine to work, Spock would need to be right in the middle of the storm.

Kirk had immediately abandoned the idea after that, but Spock couldn’t let these civilians die knowing he could’ve saved them. He knew what it was like losing your home planet.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” Spock had logically reminded his captain, who’d just glared at his first officer in return.

Spock had eventually managed to convince Kirk, getting into a shuttle with an expert pilot to navigate Spock down onto the planet. The pilot had directed the shuttle right into the middle of the storm and Spock was able to activate his machine, which appeared to be working properly—in a couple of minutes, the storm would lessen and the planet would be saved.

However, even the expertise of this pilot hadn’t been enough to prepare them for the extreme conditions of the storm on the way back. They’d almost been out of the storm’s reach when a piece of debris hit the right side of the shuttle, damaging the engine and making it spin out of control. The Vulcan couldn’t actually remember crashing; one second the shuttle had been damaged, the other Spock was lying on the ground. That brought him to his current situation.

Spock tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his shoulder stopped him from moving even an inch. It was then that he realized his entire left arm was pinned to the ground by the wreckage. He hadn’t realized because the feeling in his arm was mostly gone—how long had he been laying here?

He moved his head to try to see more of what was going on around him, and spotted Mr. Cohen, the shuttle’s pilot, his body practically torn in half by the force of the crash. Spock deduced that the only reason he himself was still alive was because he had been seated at the very back of the small shuttle at the time of the crash, willing his communicator to work so he could inform his captain of his success.

Now that Spock was fully conscious again, not only did he begin to feel the pain in his left arm, but he also realized that there was water beginning to pile up around him, the freezing cold biting at his skin. The massive rocks and pieces of debris around him stopped the water from flowing down the hill, instead slowly rising where Spock was still pinned to the ground.

With a bit of a start, he realized that if he couldn’t free himself from underneath the wreckage in time, he would most certainly drown.

Spock automatically reached for his phaser, with which he’d be able to burn his way through the wreckage, but it wasn’t on his belt like it was supposed to be; the weapon had probably become detached during the crash. Spock wildly searched for the weapon, but soon realized it wasn’t anyway near him, and neither was the communicator he had been holding in the shuttle.

Taking a small moment to try and recollect himself, Spock calmly calculated the time he had until the water would be risen high enough to drown him. The result did not, however, calm him in the slightest. He only had 2.96 minutes. Another calculation revealed that the storm would most likely pass in 5.15 minutes. _Too late._

The uncomfortable tightening in his chest and the sudden laboring of his breathing were two things Spock blamed his human side for; the two were a reaction to the illogical panic the Vulcan was feeling. He hadn’t expected to feel so much emotion at the thought of dying, and logically speaking, he shouldn’t feel scared for something so inevitable, yet Spock couldn’t care less about logic in the current situation.

He didn’t want to die.

The only hope Spock had was stuck tightly onto the back of his shoulder, beeping ever so quietly. Before the Vulcan got into the shuttle, Kirk had insisted on placing the tracker on his uniform in case something were to happen to him, and never before had Spock been so glad about a decision his captain had made.

“Anybody!” Spock yelled out when the water had reached his ears, only barely able to hear his voice above the loud sounds of the storm. “Please!”

Never in his life had he felt as helpless as right now, as he could feel the water rising further and further, until he could no longer take any more staggered breaths. Although the water muffled all the sounds around him, the ringing in Spock’s head was almost deafening and the Vulcan swore he could feel his heart beat in his side.

_He was drowning._

Spock used his free hand to start clawing at the wreckage that pinned him down, and although he knew that he wasn’t strong enough to free himself, he kept clawing and pushing wildly, even as he felt blood seeping out from underneath his nails. The panic blocked out the pain.

He hadn’t realized someone was there with him until his wrist was grabbed tightly and pulled away from the wreckage. A bright, red light that Spock recognized as one of a phaser blinded him through the water, and he could feel heat near his left arm.

Just as Spock was about to run out of oxygen, his eyelids already starting to close, the weight on his arm was removed and two hands at his shoulders quickly pulled him up and out of the water. Spock coughed uncontrollably, spitting water on the ground that had found its way into his lungs, and clung tightly onto the two arms that were holding him up.

After what seemed like minutes of coughing and heaving, Spock realized his eyes were still closed and he slowly opened them to be faced by two familiar blue ones.

“Spock? Can you hear me?” Kirk asked, seemingly having called out multiple times already, yet Spock had not heard him before. “You scared the hell out of me, I thought we’d lost you.”

Spock found himself unable to speak and instead just pulled himself closer to Kirk, trembling in the captain’s hold.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Kirk muttered, his hand finding its way to Spock’s soaked, raven hair. “I got you.”

Kirk gave Spock a moment to recollect himself. The Vulcan still did not attempt to speak, but his trembling had ceased significantly. The sky above the two opened up, revealing the bright sun, and Kirk grabbed his communicator, his hold on Spock never faltering.

“Scotty, two to beam up. Bring us straight to sickbay.”


	2. Wait Until It Fades to Black

Nightmares were an illogical, human thing, and Spock had never suffered from them.

At least, not until he’d almost drowned.

It took him a while to realize what he was experiencing were actually _nightmares_ and not just effects of some sickness he’d caught during a mission; it took him three visits to McCoy to understand what he was going through wasn’t an illness, which Spock found most unfortunate. Illness he could deal with, but he had no knowledge to help him with nightmares.

Most nights, after he’d finished meditating and went to get some sleep, he found himself waking up almost every 30 minutes, a feeling of panic clouding his mind. He had no idea what was happening to him, until one time after he’d woken with a start, he remembered. He remembered what had happened in his dream.

The water was rising and Spock couldn’t breathe.

It was always the same. It was a repetition of the exact situation Spock had been in on that planet; he swore he could even feel the pressure on his arm from being pinned to the ground. The only difference from the real situation was that in the nightmare, Kirk wasn’t there to help him, and Spock drowned.

Or at least, he _would_ drown if it wasn’t for Spock jolting awake every single time.

It came to a point where Spock refused to sleep. Fortunately, Vulcans needed way less sleep than humans, so Spock was able to properly continue his duties for about three weeks before his captain first started to notice something was off.

“Spock, are you alright?” Kirk asked Spock one evening on the bridge. Spock turned away from his console to look at his captain, who was observing him with a frown.

It took Spock 1.87 seconds longer than usual to respond. “I am adequate, captain. I apologize if my duties have not revealed me as such.”

“That’s not what I meant, Spock,” Kirk said softly. “You look tired, is all. If you want to take a break, Mitchell will gladly take over your shift.”

“That will not be necessary,” Spock said, maybe a bit quicker than originally intended. Kirk frowned again but nodded, turning back to look at the main viewscreen, and Spock slowly returned to his duties as well, ignoring the crew’s confused stares.

After that encounter, Kirk started keeping an eye on Spock, following the Vulcan around and accompanying him to lunch and dinner to make sure he still ate well. Spock was also certain the captain had spoken to McCoy, which meant he was aware of Spock’s recent visits. But although McCoy hadn’t found any sickness that was bothering Spock, he also didn’t know about the nightmares.

Another week went by with Spock loyally sticking to his duties, and although most tasks took him slightly longer than they would’ve had Spock gotten a sufficient amount of sleep, the time spent purposely staying awake gave the Vulcan enough time to catch up on his work.

He should have known that his plan to avoid sleep would backfire eventually. It was on the 34th day of staying awake that things took a turn for the worst. Spock was leading an important research on an anomaly, together with some ensigns that shared his shift. At first, nothing seemed amiss—nothing other than the usual delay in Spock’s work that the sleep deprivation brought, at least—but when the Vulcan was in the middle of conducting a scan, everything seemed to blur around him. The loud humming of the starship’s engines suddenly sounded distant, as did the sounds coming from his console, and a high-pitched ringing took its place. In confusion, Spock brought his hands up to cover his ears, but the sudden movement caused his vision to go dark. He could vaguely hear an ensign call out to him before he felt himself falling backwards.

The next time Spock opened his eyes, a certain doctor was hovering above him, a worried expression on his face. As soon as McCoy noticed Spock was awake, he tried to hide the concern.

“Finally,” he said. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to wake up.”

McCoy started checking Spock’s vitals while the Vulcan tried to recall what had happened. He could only remember researching the anomaly, but there was a gap in his memory after that; he could not remember finishing the research or returning to his quarters in the evening, so he deduced that something must have happened during the research. It frustrated him that he could not recall anything; he felt like his brain was beginning to fail him.

McCoy must’ve seen Spock’s confusion, because he started explaining without Spock having to ask him to. “You were teaching the ensigns how to research a common anomaly when you fainted due to exhaustion. Ensign Novak brought you here.”

The doctor quickly left Spock’s side to head over to his desk and Spock took this chance to sit up in the bed. He could hear McCoy inform the bridge that he was awake, and when McCoy once again muttered the word ‘finally’, Spock started to wonder how long he’d been unconscious.

“Go lie back down,” McCoy ordered while he went through some files on his personal console, no doubt to update Spock’s file. Spock didn’t follow the doctor’s orders, instead looking around for his personal belongings, including his tricorder. Not only did the Vulcan want to confirm whether or not someone had been assigned to his usual duties on the Enterprise, he also wanted to know the stardate.

Before Spock could fully stand up, McCoy returned, a glare on his face. “I told you to _lie down_ , not get up.”

“What is the current stardate?” Spock asked as he allowed McCoy to push him back down onto the bed. He did not, however, lie back down.

McCoy frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“How long have I been in sickbay?” Spock reformed his question.

The doctor let out a sigh and attempted to push Spock onto his back again. Spock allowed him to, but only because he was still waiting for an answer.

“You’ve been unconscious for about a month, which is why I want you to lie back down,” the doctor eventually muttered angrily. “So no getting up before I’ve finished taking your vitals. I’m assuming your body went into a healing trance after being fully deprived of any sleep for so long.”

 _A month?_ Spock wondered, a bit bewildered. _I’ve been in a trance for a month?_

Right at that moment, Kirk walked in. He looked tired, and he, in contrary to McCoy, didn’t bother to hide the worry that was evident on his face. As soon as he saw Spock, he smiled and Spock could almost _sense_ his relief from across the room. Illogical.

“Spock, I’m very glad to see you awake,” he said, walking to the Vulcan’s side. Spock immediately sat back up, much to the annoyance of McCoy, who started muttering something about ‘stubborn green-blooded hobgoblins who are too stuck-up to take care of themselves’.

“Captain,” Spock gave Kirk a nod. “I apologize for my absence, I fully intent to return to my duties by the next shift.”

“To _hell_ you will,” McCoy exclaimed, glaring at his patient. “You are not leaving this sickbay until I find out what’s been keeping you from sleeping.”

“I am perfectly capable of looking after myself,” Spock said, and for a moment he swore he was back on Vulcan, talking to his mother— _I don’t need your help, mother. I can look after myself._

“Right,” McCoy said sarcastically. “Which is why you just woke up from a month long _coma_.”

Spock didn’t have anything to say to that, which finally gave Kirk the opportunity to speak.

“Spock,” he said softly. “What happened?”

The Vulcan frowned, knowing what Kirk meant but not quite knowing how and if he could explain everything. Would admitting the nightmares be admitting to his humanity; to the biggest flaw the Vulcan had? Would it be admitting to the fact that Spock wasn’t as emotionally controlled as he would’ve liked after the drowning incident?

“I appear to have collapsed during my shift, which I assure you will not happen again,” Spock decided to say. He would figure out a way to get rid of the nightmares; he’d find a way to control his emotions.

McCoy scoffed again. “And by that he means that he fainted due to his extreme sleep deprivation. From the way he went into a healing trance for a month, it seems he has been purposely avoiding any form of rest for a long while now.”

“Why?” Kirk asked to both McCoy and Spock.

“Not a clue,” responded McCoy, while Spock decided to ignore the captain’s question completely.

There was a short silence after that, and Kirk seemed deep in thought. McCoy finally finished taking Spock’s vitals and writing them in his report, and as soon as he’d finished, Kirk called out to his friend with the usual nickname. “Bones, you may leave now.”

Both McCoy and Spock turned to frown at their captain.

“What, why?” McCoy asked, clearly confused. “This is _my_ sickbay.”

It only took Kirk one look to convince McCoy, the doctor heaving a loud sigh and turning to leave. He only turned back once to remind Spock not to leave his bed, and that he was still his patient, before walking through the door.

“Alright, what aren’t you telling me?” Kirk asked almost as soon as the two were alone. Spock raised a single eyebrow.

“I am unsure what you are referring to, captain.”

Kirk took a small step forward, folding his arms across his chest and narrowing his eyes the slightest bit. “I thought Vulcans weren’t able to lie.”

Spock looked away from his gaze, feeling uncomfortable under his watchful eyes, and shifted his position on the bed so that he had both feet on the floor—a way of grounding himself, he admitted. He felt himself giving in, and he wasn’t sure if he really minded that.

“I am, after all, half-human,” Spock said, still not looking at his captain.

Wordlessly, Kirk sat down next to Spock, neatly folding his hands in his lap in a way that Spock had never seen his captain do before. It was very unlike him to appear as anything other than stubborn and laid-back, especially when he wasn’t around any crew members other than Spock. When Kirk started nervously fidgeting with his fingers, the Vulcan realized _why_ he’d never seen him like that before. Spock wasn’t the only emotionally uncontrolled one of the two.

“Nightmares,” Spock abruptly confessed, causing Kirk to look at him in shock. “I am suffering from nightmares, which is the reason I have been avoiding sleep.”

Kirk continued to stare at Spock for a little while longer until remembering to talk. “Nightmares about what?”

“Drowning,” Spock said simply, breaking eye contact.

Kirk understood immediately, and from the way the captain tensed Spock knew he remembered the event just as well as himself. Neither of the two looked at each other, Kirk intently focusing on his hands and Spock staring straight ahead, not quite concentrating on one thing in particular.

“Ah, I see,” Kirk eventually said, thinking about his words carefully. “It was a traumatic experience. Having nightmares is-“

“Human,” Spock finished. Kirk nodded slowly.

“ _Human_ ,” he repeated, “but it is also logical.”

Another silence passed between the two, but it wasn’t in any way awkward. It was similar to the silence that the two always shared during their chess matches; they were just sitting, thinking to themselves, neither feeling the need to talk. Kirk still had his hands in his lap, but was no longer fidgeting nervously.

“I apologize for withholding information related to the competence of my duties,” Spock said, to which Kirk scoffed loudly.

“I don’t care about your duties, Spock. I care about _you_ ,” the captain said. “From now on, I want you to update me immediately of these kind of things. Your health is important, understood?”

“Affirmative.”

Kirk finally removed his hands from his lap, using them to push himself up from the bed instead. “For the moment, McCoy can give you something to help you sleep.”

“That will not be necessary,” Spock politely declined the offer. “I will, however, ask to be excused of my duties for the time being, as I will not be able to perform them adequately while I am emotionally compromised.”

“Very well.” Kirk nodded and put his hand on Spock’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

As Spock looked up at his captain, the hand still firm on his shoulder, he felt a sudden rush of warmth, causing him to shiver a little. If Kirk noticed, he didn’t let it show.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m available. Talking about the nightmares might help overcome them,” Kirk said, flashing Spock a quick smile before his expression turned serious once again. “If I notice even the faintest glint of exhaustion in you, I’m sending Bones after you, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Spock said, giving his captain a nod.

With a final smile, Kirk dropped his hand from Spock’s shoulder and walked through the door, leaving the Vulcan longing for more of his captain’s calming touches.


	3. If You Were Here I'd Never Have a Fear

Meditation had always been a way for Spock to calm himself and suppress his emotions. As Spock opened his eyes for the hundredth time, however, he realized that this time, meditation had failed him.

McCoy had been positive that Spock would fall asleep with ease, his exhaustion being enough to force him through the nightmares, but Spock no longer felt any exhaustion. His healing trance had allowed his body to regenerate completely, and Spock had to admit that for a short moment, he’d been hopeful that the trance had stopped his nightmares as well. He’d almost forgotten how terrible it felt to wake up in fear, but as he sat straight in his bed, gasping for air, he remembered exactly what it felt like.

And he couldn’t for the life of him calm down.

The suffocating feeling wouldn’t leave his chest, and his hands were shaking so much that he doubted he could hold something without instantly dropping it to the floor. He had trouble controlling his breathing, his lungs clenching at the lack of oxygen, and Spock felt frustrated at being so helpless in his situation. None of it was logical; even the anger he felt at that notion was anything but logical.

_If the nightmares are still bothering you, please, talk to me._

That simple sentence had been running through Spock’s mind all night. Kirk seemed convinced that talking would help, and as Spock finally gave up on meditation, he was actually considering taking him up on his offer. Perhaps his captain was right—as illogical as it sounded, talking about them could at least help to calm him down. Spock didn’t have much to lose.

Getting up, Spock decided that he’d had enough of the mental debate. He knew Kirk’s shift was over; the two shared almost every shift, so to think otherwise would be illogical. He realized he was quite unsteady on his feet as well, feeling as if he’d been running while all he’d done was poorly meditate for 3 hours. He carefully left his quarters and walked over to Kirk’s, which was conveniently located right next to his own.

As he stood in front of Kirk’s personal quarters, waiting for his captain to respond to his request to enter, he found himself doubting his decision once again. It felt uncomfortable to be outside in the hallway in his sleeping attire, even if it looked quite similar to the regular Vulcan clothing he wore during off-duty hours. His mind was telling him to go back to meditating, but he felt a longing for Kirk’s calming presence that stopped his feet from moving away. Before he could convince himself to leave, the door opened with a hiss. Kirk now stood in front of him, eyes drooped and dressed in his sleeping attire, and Spock realized that his captain had already been asleep. He really should’ve considered that possibility, seeing as it was already well past midnight.

“Spock?” Kirk sounded half asleep.

“I-I apologize. I clearly interrupted your rest, I will come back in the morning,” Spock said quickly, already starting to back away. Kirk’s expression turned from tired to worried in a matter of seconds and he reached out to grab Spock’s arm, stopping him from making an escape.

“It’s okay,” he said, suddenly more awake. “Come in, Spock.”

He stepped aside and Spock reluctantly entered the captain’s quarters, looking around. The lights were still dimmed, so Kirk ordered the computer to brighten them to 40%, but Spock didn’t need the lights to see that Kirk’s quarters were as neat as ever. There were some PADD’s stacked on his desk and the bed was unmade, logically, but the rest of the room was almost spotless.

“Spock, you’re shaking,” Kirk noted, the concern growing. “Are you okay?”

The Vulcan raised his hand, looking at how badly it was still trembling. “I do not know.”

Kirk placed both his hands on Spock’s shoulders, softly guiding him to sit down on the edge of the bed. Once again, Kirk’s touch conveyed such warmth that Spock shivered, secretly wishing him not to let go. Unfortunately, Kirk stepped back almost instantly, most likely to respect the Vulcan’s space, but Spock just felt cold and tense without Kirk’s touch.

“Talk to me, please?” Kirk asked quietly. Spock suddenly wasn’t sure if he could. He didn’t understand what was happening either, he just knew that everything felt wrong and he wanted to be able to control his mind again; nothing was logical anymore. He hated his emotions, and hated himself for feeling anger.

After a short moment of silence, Kirk spoke up again, “Spock? Can you hear me?”

_You scared the hell out of me, I thought we’d lost you._

He could hear the rain beating down around him, and the thunder booming through the air. The water was rising. He couldn’t escape; his arm was trapped by the wreckage.

He didn’t want to die.

“Spock!”

Spock’s eyes shot open—he hadn’t realized he’d closed them—and Kirk was now kneeling in front of the bed to match Spock’s height, his hands cupping his face. Without thinking, Spock raised his own hands to grab Kirk’s wrists, and the captain visibly startled and tried to pull away before realizing the Vulcan was actually trying to keep his hands there.

Calm. Kirk’s touch made him feel calm.

“I feel fear,” Spock said quietly, looking into Kirk’s stunned expression. “Fear of dying. It is overwhelming, and it consumes my every thought. Vulcans don’t dream, yet I am suffering from nightmares that leave me paralyzed with fear.”

Kirk didn’t dare to speak up, not wanting to shut Spock down again.

“The nightmares are always the same. I am back on the planet, the water rises and I am drowning,” the Vulcan continued. “The only difference is that you’re not there.”

Something in Kirk’s expression changed then, from worry to understanding and something else that Spock couldn’t quite place. “It’s okay, Spock. I was there. I _am_ here.”

“I know,” Spock said quietly, still holding Kirk’s hands in place. “Your presence calms me.”

“It does?”

Kirk looked surprised, but not uncomfortable, which is why Spock allowed himself to hold his captain’s wrists for a moment longer before finally letting go. Instead of quickly stepping back like Spock had expected Kirk to do, the blonde smiled before very slowly lowering his hands and moving to sit next to Spock on the bed.

“You’ve stopped shaking, so that’s good,” he said. “You’re also less pale than before.”

Spock raised one hand and noticed that he had indeed stopped trembling, which he knew to be a good sign.

Kirk let out a slow breath. “Have you slept at all since you’ve been released from sickbay?”

“I have not,” Spock admitted honestly. He’d already returned to his usual duties a while ago, yet sleep was elusive as ever. “I’m unable to calm myself down after a nightmare.”

Kirk looked away and thought for a while, silently glancing through the room. He’d gotten an air of awkwardness around him, and for a moment Spock thought he’d done something wrong, but then Kirk looked back at him and broke the silence.

“Then, seeing as I have a calming effect on you, would it help if you stayed here?”

Spock frowned. “While resting?”

“Yes.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

Spock automatically opened his mouth to decline, but stopped himself before he could. The thought of staying with Kirk made him feel less anxious. It was still illogical, but he found he didn’t mind this time.

“I do not wish to disturb your own rest, captain,” Spock said after a short moment of stunned silence, already guilty of waking Kirk in the middle of the night. “Your role on the Enterprise is too important to be disturbed by a lack of sleep.”

Kirk scoffed. “Your role is important too, Spock. You can’t keep going like this. And it’s Jim, we’re off duty.”

“Very well.”

“Is that an answer to calling me Jim, or to staying here?” Kirk asked with an embarrassed chuckle.

Spock stayed quiet for another moment, while Kirk waited expectantly. “If you are absolutely certain it will not interfere with-“

“It won’t _interfere_ with my work, Spock. In fact, I’ll feel a lot better once I can stop worrying about you all the time. I’m sure McCoy will agree with me on that one.”

While a part of Spock wanted to politely decline and retreat to his own quarters, he couldn’t deny that a bigger part of him wanted to accept. In a way, knowing that his captain had such a calming effect on him was reassuring, and if staying with him could potentially calm him down and help him get over the nightmares, he really had nothing to lose.

“Then I will stay,” Spock finally spoke up, not missing the slight surprise on Kirk’s face before he smiled. “Thank you.”

Kirk was the first to break eye-contact, breaking the silence along with it.

“Well, it’s like 2 am right now, so it might be smart to get some sleep. We have Alpha shift tomorrow,” he said, stretching out his arms before plopping back onto the bed. “Computer, get those lights out of my face.”

Surprisingly, the lights actually dimmed to 0%, and Spock could hear Kirk laugh from where he was lying. Spock laid down as well, unable to stop an amused smile from making its way onto his face.  

Especially in comparison to Spock, Kirk seemed to be an easy sleeper; they hadn’t even been in bed for much more than a minute and the captain had already fallen asleep. Although that wasn’t quite surprising, seeing as Spock had so abruptly woken him just before.

Kirk’s bed was bigger than Spock’s own, the Vulcan noticed, but it still wasn’t quite made for two people to fit in. Spock respectfully stayed out of his captain’s way, and took care not to interrupt any of the blonde’s movements as he stirred in his sleep.

With a small sigh, Spock finally closed his eyes and tried to focus on falling asleep. Whenever he startled and lost his focus, he opened his eyes for a second to remind himself that he was safe; Jim was right here with him. Nothing could happen to him while Jim was by his side.

Except once he fell asleep, the water was rising and Spock couldn’t breathe.

“Spock, it’s okay, I’m here.”

Familiar warm hands found his face again, and Spock instinctively reached out to move closer to Kirk. He opened his eyes when his forehead bumped into Kirk’s own, meeting his captain’s eyes with a bit of a jolt, but Kirk didn’t seem to mind.

With so many points of contact between them, Spock was certain Kirk could feel his fear due to his telepathy, but he didn’t seem bothered by it; he was still looking into Spock’s eyes as he calmly whispered some things that Spock was too distracted to hear.

As Spock’s tired eyes drifted shut once again, Kirk didn’t move away, staying as close to him as he physically could. This time, once Spock had calmed his beating heart enough to fall asleep, there were no nightmares plaguing him; a vague dream of being on the bridge with the crew replaced it. Kirk’s dream, Spock realized, and he had never been this thankful for being a touch telepath.

When Spock awoke the next morning, feeling more peaceful and rested than he had in months, looking at the still sleeping Jim next to him, he mentally thanked his human side for allowing him to feel so happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
